July 1, 2010

Hi everyone, it is Hobart with my latest “ON THE LEVEL” feature. This week I am going to talk to you about one of the most important things in life: TRUE FRIENDS. I personally don’t have many friends, in fact I can count all my friends on one paw, but the ones I have are good to me. I want to highlight that I don’t hate The Cardinal that much any more after the plushy sushi she brought back from Japan for me. That thing is some seriously good shit and I love to lick it for hours, take a tumble with it, bring it to bed etc. Seriously good shit.

Basically, TRUE FRIENDS give you a good hearty scratch in the morning, make sure you have enough food on the plate, if you have a funny looking thing on you they grab you and check it out even if you dont really want them to touch you because you feel awkward but really they want to make sure you are okay, TRUE FRIENDS DO NO PULL YOUR TAIL, they let you do your thing and love you for it. They mean even let you lick their armpit [well maybe not "let you" is the right word, maybe they are actually asleep and you wake them up that way for example. Which maybe sounds a bit gross but between TRUE FRIENDS this kinds of things can exist in a happy friendship.]

My good friend Dora tells me that A FRIEND CAN BE A VERY DANGEROUS THING. I agree with her. Sometimes people close to you can really fuck you up – brush your fur the wrong way [uggghh] for example. This is seriously not a spiritual way to be.

My advice is, if you have anyone in your life that is not a TRUE FRIEND, just cut them loose. They aren’t even worth pissing on if they are burning.

There are too many cushions in the sunshine to spend time with than fuck about with people who don’t care if you live or die.

June 7, 2010

On Wednesday last week, or maybe Tuesday, I decided I would go to Paris for the weekend. It was probably the best idea I have ever had because it turned out to be one of the best weekends I have had in a long time. Not only was the weather perfect, my buddies were in good form, flea markets open on the ground before me and the nantes crew sent me and mms of cocktail glasses filled with macarons saying “we are in Paris”. Woohoo, I was too!

FOOD IN PARIS

My favourite breakfast at L’Estaminet. After brekki there I FINALLY got to go to IMAGES & PORTRAITS the found photo shop on the corner of the Marché des Enfants Rouges and GO IN and wasn’t shooed away by the rudest man on earth. AND I BOUGHT STUFF. All vintage black and white I got a weird nudie pic with a girl wearing a mask flashing her stained knickers, a pic of two men who had shot a deer in their garage and one looks like a lunatic, a family having a picnic in the ‘5o’s and look like total nutters, a pair of something I can’t tell you because they are a present for someone and a really nice picture of the silhouettes of the backs of some peoples heads looking at a flying helicopter. That last one is really my favourite best. It reminds me of the end of the world and is very sad and weird. A bit how I imagine some kind of flashforward. OH and a line of men on a stage that look like scientists holding number cards. So as you can imagine, a small fortune was parted with in the name of home beautiful. It is a shame the man who has the framing shop at the end of my street isnt such a lush because I would feel much better taking them all to him rather than relying on HABITAT.

PARTY IN PARIS

Here we are outside Pierrot’s. That Heinekin glass is actually a gin and tonic. Yes. You read right.

Then please note the vodka bottle combined with the gin from earlier on and imagine the headache I had wandering around Paris on a boiling hot day in the Marais at a giant flea market there. Couldn’t have been happier, except for the head.

Goon’s face says it all really.

PICNIC IN PARIS

Here is Goon and Vincent about to start re-enacting their favourite scene from Brokeback Mountain at a picnic on the banks of the Seine before we tucked in to take away tarts from Tartes Kluger.

Later that night we watched a man standing in a tunnel on his own with his back to us. We weren’t sure if he was pissing, tripping, asleep against the wall, wanking… except he was motionless. On a closer inspection, he had been standing there for ages texting.

After that we wandered around and had quite delicious Mojitos in the warm night. Too good.

FASHION IN PARIS

It is easy to see why Parisian women get their reputation.

CAKE IN PARIS

Oh Didier…

…Didier…

…Didier…

What exactly have you and Nathalie done to me from your patisserie Pain de Sucre?

At the Parc de Vilatte there was some big festival thing. As Goon said giving me directions “Follow the hipsters”. A SEA of hot hot hot French men sitting around on the grass, looking casual and hot and curly haired and beautiful. And the most delicately flavoured cakes of my life.

I’m gonna skip the part about getting back and hitting my head on the taxi and crying all the way home, having to call Cards because I thought I lost my keys, spreading my entire suitcase across the pavement while Hobart who had been home alone for days meowed frantically trying to get closer through the window and then getting a cold because that would just ruin A PERFECT WEEKEND AWAY!

May 7, 2010

Melbourne and back and I hear there is some more volcanic ash problems back in the UK. What they need is some of this Tasmanian wind to blow the ash back up north to where it came from. I will speak to God, Allah, Jah, Buddah etc at their card game tonight and see what I can do for us all.

A giving up on life waiting room at a train station in Melbourne. For when your life is going no-where.

BUT!! I have to say, seeing my old friends Elissa and Ray was MAGNIFICENT. I don’t think I laughed so hard in ages; remembering THOSE OUTFITS, gossiping about who was with who then / still, the obsessions! HAHA. I wish I had more time in Melbourne now. It is such a pretty city! Small but gorgeous.

Anyway no real news other than I hear Hobart is doing well in London. I can’t wait to see her and try and put her head in my mouth because I love her so much. Dad has requested a cheese cake for his next offering after polishing off a nut pie made with pecans, walnuts and chestnuts since I have been away in Melbourne.

A shame about the crack in it. Otherwise perfect.

Oh I have been doing a photographic essay entitled ARCHITECTURE IN HOBART which I will publish soon. Only I have just learnt that my good camera – I left the fucking charger back in London and I only have the charger for the shitty camera. I have the shitty camera but I really wanted the good camera for Honkers!

April 6, 2010

Well I don’t really know much about the blog, or the photographer Rebecca Thomas [other than she can drink!] but I sure know about The Little Witch AKA Mollywood my Aussie soul mate and ex DJ partner. Check out these great pictures of the Little Witch here at ihatemyfeet.com looking like a babe. Miaw!

March 24, 2010

I got some nice emails. Thanks buddies. I saw CIB this morning. So nice. Thank you thank you. And then I ate this:

Not the piece above, but a wedge of Comté cheese from Waitrose. Lactose intolerance be fucked. Until I am on the loo later crying thinking of Manara asking myself WHY?! And trust me it won’t be all happy like 2girls etc [if you can call puking and eating it again happy?]

Then I got a text message from my boss who obvs had nothing better to do at work after everyone had gone and I had turned the lights off but go through the reception desk computers email spam folder and check what was in there on her own. Why? I don’t know. Why did I eat so much cheese? It was obviously very necessary. Tomorrow I am going to have to explain about web spiders, 250 spam in a day is no big deal, that yes the receptionist is doing her job and everything is double checked by everyone. And sit there feeling ill.

I GTG. That cheese is gurgling round in a bath of tea with honey and soya milk.

March 11, 2010

Well I failed at suicide the last two days – mainly because I was too exhausted throwing my teary self into bed, crying more, wanting to die, thinking about Hobart on her own, crying more and hating the prospect of having to live because I am so in love with my cat but feeling nothing but emptiness inside.

On the other hand it turns out to be not such a bad thing as some drinks at The Haggerston with Tsouni who says ‘HOW ARRRE YOUUUUEWWW?!’ like a regular American its pretty cute and P-Dogg & J-Dogg. Tsouni; Eli & I had some really amazing graphic conversations about strip search, cervix exams, worm, armpits, anuses, dreadlocks etc. So captivating! I wish I could blog the images in my mind while we had that conversation. I was in heaven. Does heaven have a capital H?

I came home and the cat who is a recently confirmed pescatarian – who ate a saucer of rocket last night if you please – left the most pungent malodourous turd in her litter tray ever. She’s staying on the straight craquette diet and thats it.

August 15, 2009

I got up with a hang over and at some hummous and crackers with my little cobber Hobart on the sofa. Then I did some dished. While I was washing with my marigolds on, I was day dreaming about getting a really terrible disease and having to stay in hospital for a long time and wondering if my friends would be allowed to bring Hobart in to sleep on the bed with me. My mind wandered further and I imagined tell my friends how ill I was and how I would have to live on the ward for a long time and my friends were rallying around offering to take care of Hobart and who would watch the flat etc etc. I considered letting my ex live in the flat on the one condition he didn’t root anyone in my bed – but on that point he can’t be trusted. [He apparently returned an earring to a lady friend that she had left at his apartment ONLY IT WAS SOMEONE ELSE'S EARRING. WHAT A DOUCHE.] Anyway so back to me being critically ill in hospital. Finally I agreed with myself that it would be best if Mrs Kipling and The Cardinal took it in turns to take care of Hobart as I know I could trust them both. I ended up thinking about my Granny Barbara who ended up hanging herself in the New Norfolk hospital in Tasmania with a shower curtain and the big pool tables they had in the recreation room there we had to hang out in when Mum and Dad when to visit her before she died.

Then I caught myself – WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT – and remembered my dream. In it I was bestie friends with the ex girlfriend of The Rubber Band Man!!! How this happened I don’t know. We were chatting away in French. In my dream her face was very soft and friendly. I don’t think this will ever happen though. She called me a whore once for sleeping with her ex. Such is life.

Speaking of life, The Frenchman left a bag of figs on my doorstep the other night.

January 25, 2009

For the first time, V and I have let someone else have their selection of pictures on our online amateur porn site, lameatnames.com

Akroe lives and works in Paris. He is a graphic designer, has been the art director for electro/hip hop label Institubes, collaborates closely with Sixpack. He was given carte blanche for a month by the department store Galeries Lafayette, designing the windows of the flagship store in Paris. His work is frequently exhibited, in France and abroad. There are two Akroe monographs published by Pyramyd, in its Design&Designer series.

He sent us a gang of pictures, but we only used a about a dozen. He thanked us and asked we send back the ones we didn’t use. He also said it is clear he needed to work more on his style. He asked for some pointers in what makes lameatnames porn. I gave them to him. Let’s hope his next contribution is better. For the meantime you can see his NSFW contribution here on lameatnames.com.

And no, we don’t want your pictures. This isn’t an invitation for you to start sending us stuff cause like I started off by saying: we really don’t want them.

Only sometimes it will happen that we will be interested to receive someone’s collection of pictures, and if there are enough good ones, we will post them for you all to check out.

Please don’t be offended that it works like this. We just don’t want to get bombarded with more of the same shit we already filter through to find what we consider beautiful enough for the lameatnames gallery.

January 1, 2009

Everybody recovered after last night’s atrocities? I bet there are a few of you just getting out of bed now.

I had dinner with four friends at a local Thai restaurant. I had the Tom Kha and Lab Kai as per usual. My friends – who were taking various different drugs – made for an interesting mix of company. As the evening progressed, so did the conversation and my sense of watching a weird episode of Faulty Towers or something increased. Death by tsunami, death by Muslims on a plane, general death etc conversation for starters. Weird stalkers on the internet, weird sex on the internet and NONE of that was from me. They all hated the pub at the end of my street. It was kind of funny and nice. So they all ended up in my little flat continuing their own personal journeys to Midnight and The New Year visiting the bathroom and the back yard while I sat and drank pink prosecco, on my pink chair, watching the pink TV.

By the time they wanted to leave, I had already drawn a map for them to get back to the tube station and ripped it off the note pad I guess a little too eagerly because my best friend of the lot that was there cracked up and called me fucking autistic. It was also LOL.

Funnily enough though I had a really good time. I hope you all did too at whatever you were doing.

October 1, 2008

I am going on a trip at the end of October to make good a dinner date promise I made to a guy I know there. I am going to stay with another guy, Johan, and his dog Nixon, to have some serious old friend conversations. I think I have known Johan for 8 years now. I love him. He was my witness at my wedding!

I’M SO EXCITED.

I had a bath a minute ago to soothe my aching back – I twisted it helping The Cardinal sand her floor yesterday. SUCH FUN!! Unbelievable!! I was lying there thinking about the maps, the piano, the snow… Dinner date will be fun! And then when Johan invited me to stay instead of recommending a hotel I did total cartwheels around my house. The BEST EVER.

What a result from a shitty day. Also, I have a card from the post office letting me know I have a package that was too big to deliver [EXCITING!] and I won all my auctions on eBay today [RIPPA!] I suppose that I had not been putting enough effort into fun stuff lately that wasn’t somehow mixed up with a situation that was making me very sad. And I have learnt a lesson in a quick decision to do something really spontaneous and frivolous.

Now I must go to bed and dream about happy things. Like this song Cesca post on her Facebook page which is brilliant.